Dancing Through Starry Skies
by Kisuru-chan
Summary: A gift can be anything, but Ash wants a gift that will make Misty smile. Not just any old item off the shelf! But with Misty growing more suspicious the longer he is away, and the clock ticking away with only a few days left to choose a great present, Ash will have to comb Celadon City for The Perfect Gift hoping a miracle gives him strength. AUish. AAML.
1. Ready for the Party?

**Story Name** : Dancing Through Starry Skies  
 **Author** : Kisuru-chan  
 **Main Pairing:** Pokeshipping, Ash x Misty  
 **Warnings** : OCs that do not interfere with the Pokeshipping whatsoever. Used as comedy relief and help to the plot? Also, my personal brand of sappiness.  
 **Length:** Likely 40,000+ish words. 11ish chapters.

* * *

 _What's special? What can be more special than snow on Christmas?_

Wind gently grazed his cheeks, turning them frostier and redder than a moment before.

 _If snow is the gift to the world, then what should the best present for the person I care about_ the most be . . .? Ash wondered, shutting his eyes. _What magic would I need?_

He stared blankly at a break in the cloud-engulfed sky, watching the little cirrus clouds chug along until the larger clouds swallowed them whole. No angel descended from the heavens to answer his call for inspiration.

Snowflakes fluttered from the heavens in dizzying spirals. One by one, snow spiraled to the frost-streaked trees dotting Route 7's path. White glistened on the cusps of branches; crystal rainbows zig-zagged and sparkled against surface as the sun threatened to peek through the smoky film of clouds and shine upon the chill forest

Even though the land had settled into a frostbitten and overbearing winter, the usual three suspects traveling Kanto's farthest reaches animated the freezing forest with the constant crunch of footsteps. By then, it had been snowing relentlessly all day with no sign of letting up on the horizon

"Pika. . . ." PIkachu whined to itself, digging its paws into the shoulder of Ash's coat.

Stirred from his musings, Ash sleepily titled his head to the side to glance at Pikachu

"Are you cold, buddy?" Ash asked.

Teeth chattering in agreement, Pikachu all but confirmed this but clinging even tighter to Ash's coat with all the force of the shivering snow hugging to the trees.

It was at times like this Ash wondered if Pikachu should return to its Poke Ball and delight in the warmth inside instead of subjecting itself to being sick.

Pikachu vigorously shook its head as if it knew what evil scheme Ash was hatching. "Pika pika," he rejected quickly.

Misty clutched pink mitten-laden hands to the folds of her pink jacket. Any extra space for warmth would suffice even now. She shivered nearby, hugging herself.

"Brrr, I'm freezing!" Misty complained to anyone who would listen. "I can't wait to get inside and drink a nice hot chocolate! And maybe catch a Christmas movie."

"I could go for a plate of nice, hot food right about now!" Ash agreed with a laugh. "I want three, no four, huge heaping plates of hot food after all this snowfall. Bring it on!"

Misty pouted at Ash as though he had grown a second head. He had turned her general idea topsy-turvy into something goofy, as per usual. "You think with your stomach, don't you?"

Ash shot her a scathing Look. Misty returned his firepower with a full-brunt glare without backing down a muscle. He tossed his arms to each side and scoffed at her attitude.

"I can't help it. The holidays are the best time for devouring delicious food," Ash said, reproachful but full of positive energy. "I also really, really want to beat the Celadon gym leader. I'm so excited to get my next badge."

Ash and Pikachu exchanged a high five. Pikachu was always on his side, after all.

"Pikachu!"

Meanwhile, Brock clumsily shifted the map in hands horizontally and vertically, or every which way possible in imagination. Despite his usual good graces with maps his fingers creaked and stiffened beneath a pair of dark green gloves. Eventually, he twisted the map until it stood in his hands diagonally. The crisscrosses and inked in red lines revealed Route 7's current path crystal clear.

"Well, the Pokemon Center should be right up ahead," Brock insisted for the fifth time for the past half hour. Trekking through the forest had taken longer than expected because of the black ice and snow drifts pouring into the pathway like tiny waterfalls. He turned the map in his hands to relieve the coldness once more seeping beyond his gloves and stinging his palms. "We're about there."

A white puff of breath left Misty's lips. She sighed gratefully. This time, something in Brock's tone tipped her off that this was the real deal "That's a relief. I like snow, but not when I'm the one freezing."

Like clockwork the trees thinned into an expanded azure sky. Snowy rooftops of beyond the route replaced the forest's snow-tipped brush and desolation.

"So the Pokemon Center should be to our immediate—" Brock started.

"To the right!" Ash filled in.

The Celadon City's red Pokemon Center roof arced through the sky like a welcome beacon. Ash, Misty, and Brock made short work of the welcome gates, kicking aside the last vestiges of slippery snow blocking their way, and entered the Pokemon Center.

 _I'll have to think about it later_ , Ash thought. Rest needed to come before thinking of such exhausting things like amazing presents.

Inside the Pokemon Center, toasty warmth thawed Ash's frozen limbs straight down to the weary bones. Trainers of all sizes and shapes lounged on the floors and tabletops in clusters. Some trainers were gathered near the TV monitor hung above a sizzling fireplace in the corner; mistletoe and crimson Christmas stockings hung above the chimney. From just this view, most Pokemon and Trainers alike seemed to have migrated to the Center for the day to drop off their luggage before speeding off once again into the bustling crowds outside.

A display filled with food was stationed on the lobby's other side. Batches of mini green-red cakes and snowflake and snowmen cookies cheerfully decorated the tabletop in droves.

Tantalizing scents of cinnamon and ginger wafted against Ash's nostrils.

"Yum. Forget warm food. There's cookies. Cookies are all I need to survive!" Ash yelled. Small details. Dinner could wait—he was ready to chow down on sugary holiday goodness. He made a mad dash for the counter.

"Ash, stop it!" Misty snapped as soon as she saw his reckless action. She reached out and snatched him by the shoulder. Ash gasped and made a scene squirming in her grasp. She seemed determined not let him make a complete fool of himself.

But this was not to detour Ash from his soon to be prize. "Misty, stop being a killjoy! It's okay. I just want one. They're calling out to me. They're saying, 'Eat me, eat me, Ash'!" Ash scowled, but he stamped on one foot, turning halfway to dejectedly gaze at Misty.

"Pika pi!" Pikachu agreed. It waved his stubby hands out in front of itself, also hoping to magically grab a gingerbread man.

"No, the both of you can't have any until Nurse Joy says you can," Misty sighed, accusing tone firm. "Remember your manners. Look at the other trainers?" She made a general circle gesture to the center lobby to prove her point. "Don't you see they're not taking anything? I'm sure she worked all morning to make them."

The squeaking of wheels behind the front desk signaled the arrive of a medical cart.

"That's right, they're for this Pokemon Center's annual Christmas bash held in a few days," Nurse Joy interjected with a sparkling smile. Gusto strong for probably helping out with the treats, Chansey waved from behind her. "Don't let me stop you, go ahead. Help yourselves. I just put those out five minutes ago."

Ash smirked all too smugly at Misty's exasperation. Misty cringed.

"Great. Thanks, Nurse Joy!" He proceeded to zip off to the table and gorge on Christmas sweets.

"Nurse Joy's beautiful, and an amazing cook. What a breathtaking combination!" Brock sing-sang. Instead of joining Ash, he stepped up to the counter in a daze. "Will you—"

Containing Brock's excitement was surprisingly easy for the occasion. It only took Misty a mere five ear jerks before he calmed down and behaved himself.

"As you were saying a minute ago, Nurse Joy?" Misty prompted.

Quickly forgetting her nervousness with Brock's approach, Nurse Joy laughed as she deposited a Rattata with a large white bandage on its leg from the medical cart to on top of the desk. "Well, Celadon holds an annual Christmas bash every year out in the square. I can't help myself though," she explained with an ounce of pride. "When it comes to celebrations, the Center is one of the biggest hot spots in town. Gatherings here bring in as many people when they're exhausted from walking on the streets and I want to add to the fun with another party."

"Aw, that's so sweet." Misty smiled. "I'm sure the trainers are really thankful."

"I know I am. This cake is am-a-zing." Ash returned, stuffing a hunk of powdery frosting between his teeth. He dropped a plate of the sweets set out for Brock and Misty to try.

Despite her earlier annoyance, Misty dug a plastic fork into a piece of vanilla cake with only a half of Santa's hat frosted on. She took a hearty bite and grinned as sugar melted in her mouth like a burst of electricity. She set her fork right back into the slice of cake for more. "Wow, this is good. I can't remember having a recipe like this."

"Me either," Brock said. He was already shoveling two snowflake cookies into his mouth at once. Of course, a Breeder that dealt with food supplies each day could give me higher compliment. "I'd love to learn, if you wouldn't mind."

A companiable pause took shape as the sweets were consumed and Nurse Joy answered questions. Hop-scotch footsteps broke the silence once a trainer with a blue stitched hat and hoodie raced to the desk, the blue ball at the hat's end flying behind him as he jumped forward in excitement.

"Rad! Rattata's all patched up!" the trainer proclaimed, relieved. "How ya feelin' after facin' Erika, Rattata?"

"Ta! Ta," Rattata assured its trainer. It waved its paw in the air, showing off that its battle wound with a swell of pride.

The trainer and Rattata did a fist bump.

"Make sure you're more careful next time," Nurse Joy warned seriously. She still didn't seem all that upset with their reunion. "That wound was deep and I needed to do a little surgery. Grass type attacks cut close in the skin. Erika's Pokemon are extremely precise and elegant about it, so remember that."

"Gotcha, Nurse J. We'll watch our backs next time, you'll see." The trainer saluted.

Misty could only give a sidelong evil eye while Ash continued to munch into his cookie and a few loose sprinkles fell on the floor. Couldn't he have more decency?

"Gross," Misty mumbled.

Noticing her distain, Ash held out the half bitten cookie out to Misty's face. "What, you want a bite?"

He totally seemed to have misinterpreted her entire observation.

Red tinged her ears. He looked so innocent asking that, just like it didn't mean anything. A bite of his cookie.

Misty swore steam was pouring out of her eardrums. _How could he even ask—ask—bite—_ She was mortified.

A bite of his _cookie_.

It was mocking her existence.

"No, you dork!" Lost for what other reaction to have, Misty violently slapped Ash's hand.

As the desired effect, Ash's hand snapped backwards. The offending cookie summersaulted in the air three times before, with a flicker of his wrist, he dived and miraculously caught it mid-air before it slammed into the floor. He sighed triumphantly at his luck.

"Wow, and you told me to be careful. You don't have to be so mean all the time, Misty. You almost ruined it and caused Nurse Joy trouble," Ash growled.

"Not my problem," she sniffed daintily. He deserved it anyway for his cluelessness.

While nobody seemed to be paying attention to Nurse Joy, Brock seemed to see how her expression darkly dropped. It didn't seem to be because of the food, though—something intense entered her gaze. He frowned at this. Nobody as beautiful and talented as Nurse Joy should have to be upset.

Brock took another bite of his cookie just to look casual. "Something wrong?"

She jumped slightly. Still, someone so chipper knew when she had been caught red-handed. "Well, I was just wondering, well. . . ." Nurse Joy fidgeted with her apron strings uncertainly. "Seeing how happy I've made you all today, I feel sad. I don't know how I'll get the rest of the chores for the party in time."

The mood shifted. Misty glanced at her, worry putting aside Ash's unknowing suggestive act to the side. "Are you okay, Nurse Joy?"

Nurse joy released a reserved sigh. "See, I know I told you about how I have the bash each year, but I haven't had the chance to finish preparations. I've been behind." She wiped the sweat off her forehead with a ragged orange cloth. "And I've been busy with the recent surge in Pokemon being brought in for the holidays. I haven't gotten the time to put up all the decorations. When so many trainers gather it's hard for them not to battle, even around Christmas."

Misty blinked at the level of secrecy kept, but she was concerned that so much had gone wrong for such a caring person. "That's awful, Nurse Joy. I wouldn't mind—" She fumbled to a sudden halt as an unguarded tear slip from Nurse Joy's eye.

"Oh, but what am I going to do?" Nurse Joy fretted aloud, overwhelmed now that she had been reminded of her workload. "I don't know who to turn to. The chief I hired to make the food cancelled on me yesterday, and the decorations are still down in the basement, and I still haven't prepared all the—" She hurriedly clasped her hand to her mouth as though she was about to spill something precarious.

 _What's that about?_ Ash thought.

Overhearing this, the Rattata trainer took a moment from rejoicing with his Rattata and looked over at Nurse Joy with a burst of enthusiasm jolting his expression. "I won't stand for that!" he shouted to the entire room. "Hey, everyone, Nurse J needs help with the Christmas bash and she doesn't know who to turn to! Ya'll gonna help her out or loaf around and be freeloaders?"

This got minor attention. A few heads raised at his high-pitched tone, wide-eyed with concern.

Brock's hands waved furiously in the air. He fumbled around for a minute until he found a tissue box under the desk. He slid Nurse Joy a stack of tissues in Nurse Joy's open palm and nodded his upmost gentlemanly agreement. "We can't let Nurse Joy cry on Christmas."

That brought the room full-circle. Like clockwork there clamor and chase prevailed. A buzz of excitement traveled from one side of the room to the other as trainer after trainer whispered to each other.

"I'll help you out, Nurse Joy!" one of the trainers called from the table near the wall. He stood up and dropped his manila work folder onto the table, waiting for orders.

"I'll help, too!" a girl with bright green hair in pigtails piped up hopefully. "Helping with the party is the least I can do after you healed my Squirtle after it was poisoned. Erika's so tough, and it was in really bad shape back then, too."

A few more murmurs of agreement followed, but gradually a wave of trainers seemed to get in on the good will. A rumble of shootouts speared through the lobby as the nature of helpfulness bounce about the walls. One by one each trainer willfully volunteered themselves for any grueling obstacle Nurse Joy had for them to prepare for the Christmas party the next day.

"Now that's more like it," Misty encouraged.

Nurse Joy dabbed at her eyes with the tissues. She had merely been saddened she wouldn't make anyone else happy. But to have so many trainers at her beck and call to make the holiday special. . . .

Now there was no excuse not to have a great Christmas bash to deliver to her wonderful customers. This would be a blast, if not better than the town party. That was, if she could help it in her own unique way.

"Thank you all," Nurse Joy laughed, smiling courteously and her most profound thank you. "Let me put my supplies away and we can get our hands dirty, shall we?"

* * *

 **A/N:** Originally, my plan was to finish this fic before November 1st. Life happened, but I promised Zee-tan I'd start posting by today. I intended to stick to my word regardless!

Story dedicated to: zeetan, who's one of my oldest online friends for ten years now. And met less than a month before Christmas... or, at least at the end of November. (Yes, you recall I have a very good memory.) This story was promised to her after a writing competition on an old roleplay forum of ours about five years ago. See, I told you this present would happen. I was serious!

Special mention goes to: The friends who listened to me talk on and on about writing this. 4Kids' forgotten Pokemon Christmas Bash CDs gave me inspiration, too. Believe it or not this fic was not based on them, because I only remembered these tracks existed recently. Only a few "what am I going to do with this how is this going to plug into my weird ideas" loose ends were tied together after listening to the CD again.

I'm a bit nervous to post this on a public archive because I'm still editing the rest. But I wanted to take the leap and try to motivate myself for all the other writing I'm about to undertake this November. I'm actually really proud of this story despite that, though—I knew the ending from the start! Which is a rarity for me. I hope anyone who stumbles across this other than Zee-tan likes this.


	2. The Beautiful Angel

After dividing the chores into two sections from Nurse Joy's roster (food preparation and decorating), a Santa hat was stuffed with colored scraps of paper. Through majority rule it was deemed the best way to distribute job titles. Each trainer, including the less optimistic, poked their fingers in the fluffy cap and picked with bated breath. After all, nobody wanted to be that one single good-for-nothing slouch mooching off poor, sweet Nurse Joy's labor. Each trainer's hopes were high to for a good assignment. Meanwhile, their Pokemon would assist them however necessary.

Shuffling his feet in anticipation, Ash stood in front of Misty. Once it was his turn to pick he glanced back over his shoulder at her. The time was now or never.

"Hey, Misty, let's pick out of the hat together, okay?" Ash suggested.

Misty blinked. Asking her instead of Brock seemed strange to her—oh, right, he had volunteered food duty already. To be fair, Brock was pretty busy comparing recipe notes with Nurse Joy anyway.

Still why Ash asked was beyond her. They would both pick at any rate, and only with the luck fate gave them.

Not that Misty wanted to complain. On the contrary, she was fine with this.

"Works for me," Misty agreed.

Ash's hand started towards the hat. Misty's eyes narrowed and she glanced at Ash from the corner of her eye. Somehow this seemed wrong. Misty wanted to make it right, and there was only one way to do that properly.

"Uh, Ash, let's do it at the same time," Misty said. She wrung her hands for a second, wondering what she was even asking him. "It'll be luckier, I think."

Ash paused, and he looked thoughtful. That might be true, actually. The more, the merrier! He shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Let's do it on the count of three."

Two pairs of hands tentatively reached towards the hat. Both gulped anxiously, wordlessly. Misty and Ash pulled out of the hat at the same time; their hands brushed just as soon as the torn pieces of paper were clasped between their fingertips. They exchanged a look for a moment too long to be a coincidence.

Ash retracted his hand as though it might catch fire. He held it against his chest, rubbing the back of his hand.

Typical Ash behavior, Misty decided.

"What's with you? Stop acting like a baby. I did what you asked!" Misty rolled her eyes. She could feel the gentle ghost of his warmth lingering on her skin.

Ash held up his piece of paper proudly, all traces of concern washed away.

"Yeah, well, you probably really did me bad luck or something," Ash said. That was the most description thing he could come up with, but it was probably true.

Misty shot him a yeah-whatever look. She was a bit apprehensive about her slip, but she felt luckier than she had all day for some reason, and ignoring such a feeling was out of the question. But it really had nothing to do with wanting a certain job. Misty unfolded her piece of paper and scanned the results.

"I'm assigned to checking off ornaments and putting them up on the tree," Misty said. She made a sour face; the dust swirling out of those boxes would strangle her. "Fuuun. That sounds like work, but I think it's the best job."

Ash crumpled his slip in his fingers. His anxiety was worse than Misty's a minute ago, and his heart beat a bit faster. This was a do or die situation in the making.

Ash shut his eyes while he fumbled with the bent edges. He peeked at the curvy writing once he had the paper flat on his palm. "I'm putting up decorations and making ornaments." Relief branched out through his whole body. He just grinned. "That means I'm with you, Misty!"

Misty scoffed her shoes on the floor. That lifted her spirits a little, and she tried hard not to show it on her face. Such a small thing made her too glad.

 _I guess I don't mind working with Ash_. A note of elation laced her mental tone. Luck truly had come to her, and she dismissed the thought immediately. It had to be strictly coincidence.

"You better appreciate that I'm here to show you how to decorate a tree. Just don't break anything," Misty warned.

Ash sniffed. Anyone could decorate a Christmas tree. He was no exception. "Same to you! I decorated our old tree with Mom back in Pallet Town every year. I don't need pointers from you."

As elated as he had been a moment ago, Ash frowned at the scrap of paper in his hand. It must have been a stroke of great luck, but one thing was still on his mind.

 _Misty being here is great and all, but. . . ._ Ash trailed off from his thoughts and looked anywhere but at her. _Will have to ask Brock when I see him come out of the kitchen. I hope he can answer me._

Once the assignments had been drawn accordingly, the Pokemon Center was abuzz with scampering feet and bubbly chatter. Working on the preparations would be a real drag without company, after all. From the kitchen, the fresh scents of gingerbread and crispy pies wafted from behind the metal doors.

Luckily for Ash and Misty, some of the buffer guys downstairs had hauled the pine tree from the Pokemon Center basement to the lobby for convenience. In commemoration of the spirit of the season, the tree was as authentic as they came. Nonetheless, the two of them had to upright it near the fireplace. For the two of them, it was a delicate operation to not accidently smack the tree against the wall or snap one of the branches off.

Stepping back, they observed their handiwork. Yes, a lot had to be done for the tree to look festive. Looking at a bare pine tree was like staring at a blank green canvas; there were a million decorating options available to them.

"So far, so good," Misty breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced at the ten or so boxes behind them on the floor with lights and ornaments. The guys had gone overkill with their options—how could one small basement hold so many Christmas themed items?—but at least a variety would add some cheer to the lobby. "Where do we even start?"

"Uhh." Ash scratched the back of his head with his hat as he stared up at the ceiling, honestly stumped. "It's a big tree when you see it from down here. I feel so small looking at it. I don't know."

Misty crouched down next tone of the brown boxes and sliced at the tape with an envelope cutter. The weathered box sagged under even that much pressure, but she flipped the lid on it. Dust flew in Misty's face, and she coughed, swiping the dust back. She pushed aside the crinkled off-white tissue paper.

"Ugh, it smells. Like rotten eggs or something," she hissed. Misty pinched her nose and winced. "How long was this down there anyway? Ash, help me."

Ash helped, and the tissue paper was bunched off to the side near a black trash bag. It would inevitably be a pile among piles of ancient paper that afternoon to clean up. Jolly little Santa Claus statues waved at them from one side of the box. On the other, shiny red, green and blue balls rested lopsidedly next to each other. One or two of the balls were cracked in the middle.

"I think we might have to throw those out," Ash commented. He continued to look through the box and plopped the broken ones on the floor. "I don't think they'll last hanging on the tree."

Misty meanwhile reached out for a pile of tinsel and candy canes. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Psyduck staring at her listlessly on a chair, holding its head in an absent-minded tilt. Only recently had she gotten him. Psyduck was such an enormous pain in the butt! But it the holiday fever was in full-swing, and she could afford to include him in the fun. Misty was at the point where she would tolerate Psyduck's perpetual headache and it desperately needed something to do. Since anything sharp or heavy was out of the question. . . .

"Here, Psyduck, I have a job even you can do, and it'll help you with your headache," Misty said. A never-ending headache needed stress management, and what better way than shoving a bunch of tinsel on a tree? "Put this tinsel and these candy canes on the tree. It'll take your mind off that nasty headache."

Psyduck jumped down from the chair and waddled close to the pile of tinsel and candy canes Misty gestured to. It stared at them dumbly but seriously. A sparkle in Psyduck's eyes revealed a small hint of mischief. It took its hands off its head long enough to grab one of the candy canes and, without even bothering to move towards the tree, hooked it on the bill of its beak.

"Psy, duck!" Psyduck cheered. It lifted its stubby arms towards the ceiling. "Psy psy!"

Misty gaped at his stupidity. No, she was not surprised. It was cute in a dunce kind of way, though.

"Don't decorate yourself! The tree!" Misty pointed at it, and when that did not work, she face-palmed. This Psyduck knew the perfect ways to push her buttons.

"Let it have its fun, Misty. It's only having a good time," Ash reminded. He positioned a ladder next to the tree and hopped a foot on the bottom step.

Misty scowled, but she relented easily.

"Amuse yourself, I guess," Misty mumbled. It was not worth losing sleep over. Seriously, she having a bigger headache than Psyduck's today was not desirable. Outfitting a tree was a packed job, and the dust was to getting to her.

Pikachu grabbed some of the unbroken lights from the box and clipped them to the bottom tree branches. The rest of Ash's Pokemon leapt out of their Poke Balls and helped out, too. Pidgeotto and Butterfree dropped wreaths, stockings, and mistletoes above the fireplace. Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle sorted out the decorations as Ash needed them handed to him from the ladder. Occasionally, Charmander blew fire in the fireplace just to keep the lobby entire toasty for weary travelers walking in late and getting in on the action.

About an hour minutes later, a guy with long, straight blue hair and a girl with green with short, green hair trudged up the stairs and brought another brown box with them. Ash watched the two teens struggle with the box at both ends until they dropped it in front of the empty boxes.

"Do we really need any more?" Ash asked them. "We have the whole basement right here already."

"Last one for now," the guy told him. "This one was in the way down there."

The girl added, "It was really far in the basement under some medical carts. Whatever's in there must be broken, so we thought you guys could take a look at it for us. Be careful if it's glass."

With that, the two retreated back down the stairs to whatever the mess was like.

Misty, not on the other ladder, decided to check on whatever it was inside. She picked it up and—no wonder the two had struggled to carry it up!—she was caught off-guard with the sheer weight. She stumbled a bit trying to pick it up.

"Don't drop whatever's in here, Ash," Misty said. "This box is really heavy—oh, and there's a 'fragile' sign on the side."

Ash decided to test the weight out for himself. He got down from the ladder and marched over to her, and sure enough, the box refused to budge.

"What's in there, a bunch of rocks?" Ash snorted. It truly was heavy. Pounds of rocks, or even bricks from the building's old days, were plausible.

"Beats me," Misty replied honestly, panting to catch her breath. She thought for a moment and straightened to evaluate the box, something clicking in her brain. "When I heard them walking it up the stairs it did sound like things were scraping each other, like glass. No wonder she warned us." Now something was starting to make sense to her; these were the big guns, the large ornaments that might be old knick-knacks with fond memories attached to them.

Ash brushed a hand over the top of the box and flung the small dust pile on the fragile sign away. In fact, he could still write his own name with each stroke of his fingertips in that spot. His hand left a rather unflattering imprint, too.

"Either way, she'll probably be glad to see some of her old decorations put out to air instead of trapped in the box," Ash decided. "I wonder what it is."

"Hurry and open it up so we can find out," Misty suggested eagerly.

Misty and Ash ripped the tape, and the hardened parts of the box were cut away, and the contents inside exposed to the fluorescent lobby lights. Ash coughed violently as a giant dust ball bunny invaded his lungs; to no avail, he all but he batted the cloud away. Misty cracked open the lid for him and peered in.

Inside were indeed well-packed plastic metal stars. However, Misty and Ash's eyes were drawn to the top of the heap; wings spread majestically over the other ornaments like a guard over its precious treasures. The doll's silken, oversized silver dress billowed in a nonexistent wing, the colorful embroidered jewels strategically placed on its wing tips dim with age. The angel looked like a traveler surfing through the heavens with the stars enhancing the dress's glitter.

Unfortunately, two things marred the angel's beauty. Its half-ripped right wing was almost dislodged from its armpit, and half of its dress on the same side was also slashed diagonally and stained with what might be yellow and red paint.

Misty and Ash were impressed despite the disheartening flows, awestruck. Sure, everything in the box was vivid eye candy, but something about the angel's stance was enchanting.

"Look at her, Misty," Ash said. He traced a finger down the angel's smooth face. "I've never seen an angel like this."

"She's very unique," Misty observed, scooting closer to get a front-row view. She noticed that getting closer only made the angel that much more otherworldly. "Angels aren't made like this anymore. It has an old-fashioned charm to it with that dress."

 _It's old, and sort of dusty and yellowish_. Ash wasn't sure that pretty was the word to describe the angel but "charm" had a distinguished ring to it. "I guess so."

Misty carefully, in fear the doll might break somehow, gently listed the doll by the train of her dress first. She put her hand behind the angel's head and lifted her. Misty cradled her in her elbow.

"There must be a long story behind this doll, Ash," Misty surmised. "She's seen a lot of damage. But we should put that on the top of the tree for safekeeping."

"Oh, yeah. Already had that in mind, Misty! Great minds think alike." That was a good point. No tree was complete without its coveted angel as the helm of spirit. "In case we don't have another angel to put up there. The tree will feel lonely without an angel watching the trainers working so hard for each other."

Misty huffed proudly, standing to her feet with the angel resting against her chest. With some cleaning, the angel would be dazzling on the tree limbs. "I'll glad we agree on something today, Ash. We'll clean her later, but for now I want to see if her weight will keep her up at the top."

Before Misty could turn on her heel and walk over to the ladder, however, she half-bumped into a blur of pink as it came up right behind her. Misty yelped and apologized, but whoever it was—on closer inspection it was Nurse Joy—misheard her plea for forgiveness. One of Nurse Joy's eyebrows was furrowed, lost in a trance. It took Misty a second to realize her gaze was down on the angel.

"Nurse Joy?" Misty asked, concerned. She shifted the angel almost nervously.

As if on cue, Nurse Joy's zombie gaze vanished. She blinked and lightly rested a hand on the angel's long, curly black tresses, moving higher to the blue ribbons tying her hair in pigtails.

"Oh, this angel," Nurse Joy breathed.

Misty was naturally curious to Nurse Joy's doe-eyed disbelief. Something about it seemed attached to her.

"Is this angel yours, Nurse Joy?" Misty asked. "Do you have good memories?"

"I just, well, Misty." Petting the angel's hair still, she frowned. She shook her head as though her statement was not in line with her words, but she backpedaled soon enough. Blinking, she seemed to change her mind. "It's just, back when I was a girl my mother would put this angel up on the tree every year. I always used to play with her every Christmas."

Ash pawed at the dust on his knees as he stood up. He coughed, harsh, eyes watering. "You haven't seen it in that long? Is it really special?" he asked.

"I think it was very special. Wasn't it, Nurse Joy? It seems like it was loved, but time warped it," Misty said sadly.

Nurse Joy shook her head again in disagreement. She stepped back, reluctantly letting go of the angel. "Not exactly. When I started to go to the local university this angel went missing out of nowhere." Her face contorted a bit, lost in an old memory. "It was the strangest thing. It was my favorite angel of all time, and I remember packing it away in tissue in another box so she wouldn't get lost in the basement until I came back to this center and cared for the Pokemon in my mother's place. That next winter, I couldn't find her. Somehow it ended up in this box. I never misplaced it like that before then, and I was heartbroken."

 _That's so horrible_. Misty hugged the angel closer to her chest and. She gave the dirty angel another once-over in sympathy. _To lose something that meant so much to you. I can understand that feeling._

"Well, it might be years later when you wanted to find it, but you found it in the end. That counts," Misty pointed out.

Nurse Joy was taken aback by Misty's heartfelt words, but she smiled despite that, and then fondly at the angel.

"Yes," Nurse Joy approved. She curled her pink strands with her hand as if deep in thought still regarding her childhood, fidgety but alert. "Put it up at the top, okay? I know it's dirty, but please do it for me—it'll do a lot of good for my heart. It'll be a great addition with the trainers working so hard, unifying us all."

Misty nodded. "That was my brilliant plan all along. I thought it'd be a waste sitting in the box. No one will see it shine."

Ash started to ascend the ladder. Misty handed it to Ash once he was on the ladder, and Ash gripped onto the angel with in turn with absolute care. "Leave it me. It'll be perfect when I'm done!"

Ash tiptoed on the ladder steps and soon hovered above the top of the tree. He clutched the angel to his chest before reaching to place it on the top branches. The angel rattled once, twice, and three times without any sign of staying still. Frustrated, Ash hoped this would not become a devastating pattern. That was the last thing he needed to liven up his spirits for Christmas—Misty screeching in his ear that he was a total failure.

 _Just a little farther, almost got it. . . .!_ Ash stretched out his hands so both arms encircled the tree's crown. One rattle, too . . . Finally, he succeeded in keeping the angel from sailing through the bristles and getting scratching up. Grinning, he started to retract his hand.

Until—

"Ahhh!" Ash momentarily panicked as the angel tattered and slowly fell. He snatched and clutched the angel's good wing before it tumbled from its place and on the cold, hard aluminum tiles below.

"Ash, watch yourself!" Misty scolded behind him. Not even a warning stopped him from nearly damaging somewhere irreplaceable, and she was not going to be responsible if Ash gave Nurse Joy a heart attack for breaking her angel.

"Then you help me!" Ash snapped back. He glared at Misty over his shoulder, holding the angel next to the gold star he had put on the top on the top earlier.

"Well, maybe I will, you idiot! Here, I'll come up there since you can't do it yourself," Misty spat. She said the meanest things to him about it, but she really was just worried about the angel's safety. Balancing with the angel's heavy weight and navigating a good place to put it was admittedly hard work.

And so Misty joined Ash on the other ladder. She held out her arms, and Ash held out the angel, Misty taking the angel's other half in her hands. With their combined strength and precision the angel was delicately placed on the Christmas tree's top branches without any signs that trouble would come.

The angel rested perfectly still against the golden star behind her for support, serene and lovely in the Christmas glow. 

* * *

**A/N:** I am shocked with the favs and follows I've gotten for this story. Thank you to those who have expressed interest.

Funny thing. Imagine me seeing a Pokeshipping Tumblr reblog chapter one for Pokeshipping Week. Pokeshipping Week. To my utter amazement, I had no idea that I'd posted it on the first day back in November! That's right, folks. I have impeccable timing. The November 1st goal was unrelated. Is this a sign for fate?

I'm disappointed you didn't tell me this, Zelda. That's crucial information, you know? I wanted to post this the same week as chapter one. But those edits I mentioned... yes, they are happening, and let's say half of this chapter's original draft was completely different. o3o


	3. Big Questions

For the next day during meal breaks, trainers from every duty across the Pokemon Center stopped to admire the beautiful angel on the treetop. No matter how many times she was prompted for stories about the angel, Nurse Joy always smiled indulgently and leapt into choice memories from her childhood.

No one took more pride than Nurse Joy. When a trainer's eye was caught by its charms, she boosted the angel was a crowning masterpiece like a rainbow above the world; a fleeting attraction fthat hung onto its vivacity even if it was only for show. Under the dull wash from the lobby's fluorescent white lights and even the multi-colored illustrations or lights haphazardly hung along the walls the angel still was the brightest of them all. Everything was a work in progress, but the walls were beginning to find the best scheme for the holiday season.

Even though it was Nurse Joy's angel and not his in the slightest, Ash still felt a swell of pride that he had been the one that had put it on the tree with Misty. That angel was lucky. It had seen better days in Nurse Joy's youth, but he had an instinct about these things... at least he liked to think he did little bit, at any rate. The angel was making a comeback. It wanted to be noticed in this day and age; it was fighting for a place to belong among the polished and modern tables and chairs, a relic that needed to shine with its own charms. After years being cooped up, Ash identified with the spirit to battle its way up to the top.

"But that's weird." Grounding himself enough to focus on the Christmas carols jingling over television stereo speakers nearby, Ash's eyebrow furrowed as soon as the idea popped into his head. He eyed the mass of tangled blue and red light bulbs and knotted cords in his hands. Wherever such a strong thought had come from was a mystery.

To have a connection with an inanimate object so abstract and different—well, it was a special case. But maybe it was not so out of this world for Ash to believe in. He should just ignore reading into it.

"What's so weird?" Misty asked with interest. Blinking curiously, she was all of a sudden looking over his shoulder.

Ash blanched. He waved his hands as if to ward her off. Instead, he successfully bound the Christmas light cords deeper into his skin. Wincing, he tugged on the wires to free himself to no avail. How had she heard his musings? Misty had been clear on the other side of the room talking to someone two minutes ago!

"Nothing." No point in telling her about something so silly. Misty would simply laugh at him for being sentimental when he should be focusing on finishing their work from yesterday. To distract her, Ash smiled sheepishly and held up his hands to show her the cords wrapped around his wrists. "I mean, these are Christmas lights, not handcuffs. It's weird they would tie me up. Help me!"

Misty rolled her eyes at his childishness. Despite the ridiculousness of Ash getting trapped by cords of all things, she started to reach out her hand to help. "Honestly, I can't believe you would get yourself—"

"Ahhh, stop, thief! Get back here!"

Recognizing the voice, both Ash and Misty paused what they were doing. They exchanged a glance before their heads whipped around to seek out the voice. Out of the back lobby door leading into the kitchen, a shadowy figure bolted and skidded across the floor. It ducked under the lobby counter. Whatever it was, it squawked in a horrified frenzy.

Brock stumbled out through the silver doors after the shadow with a silver platter on the verge of falling out of his hands. He struggled to keep the lone cupcake on it from splattering on the floor, and he barely managed to keep his balance, but he caught himself. Brock panted and fell to his knees next to the counter, exhausted and needing fresh air to wake up his frazzled senses.

"What happened?" Misty asked urgently. She inched closer to see for herself.

Noticing them, Brock shrugged. He dusted off some flour on his apron. "Oh, um... I don't know. I was just coming out to put this—what was on here—before a Pokemon leapt out and ate everything!"

Misty narrowed her eyes and peered over the counter's ledge. Ash laughed nervously and joined her to see what Pokemon had dared disturb Brock.

The brown, circular body appeared crounched next to a desk chair. Its slim legs and head were tucked in on itself; the Doduo had stuck its heads behind a stack of paperwork, poorly shielding its whereabouts. Hearing a noise, it stared up at Misty with watery, roaming eyes. Smudges of green and yellow frosting covered both its beaks as all the evidence needed for conviction. Doduo pecked at the top page of the paperwork pile nervously. At least it knew when it had been caught red-handed.

"Found your culprit," Misty pointed out in the most accusing tone possible. "And it knows exactly what it's done, too."

Ash added, "The cupcakes it ate must have been super tasty, huh."

"Yeah, these were the test batch of cupcakes we were going to bring out for everyone to sample," Brock explained. He took another deep breath. "But that Doduo appeared. At first I thought it was helping, but it grabbed one off with each head while it distracted me! Then it pecked me before I knew what was happening. Having two heads to watch instead of one is a dirty move."

Ash saw it before it happened. He was about to speak, but the Doduo knew other methods of sneakiness.

In the moment Brock's guard had gone down the Doduo's left head stretched through the crack under counter and snatched the last remaining cupcake off the tray. Famished, it chomped and swallowed the delcious pastry wrapper and all in one gulp, prideful and spiteful towards Misty's reprimands.

"Hey!" Brock reached between the slim opening under the counter. The damage had already been dealt. He sighed with his shoulders hunched, resigned to the fate he had totally been beaten.

Misty puffed up in annoyance. She trotted behind the small wooden flip doors on the counter's side to meet the Doduo head on. The Doduo backed up against the counter instantly hearing her footsteps, both faces frightened.

"Where is your trainer? How can they let you cause trouble at a time like this?" Misty placed her hands firmly on her hips, her facial expression telling all. "Don't you feel bad about what you just did? Those were for everyone, not you."

No answer was forthcoming except the resolute shake of both its heads. The right head nodded firmly, somewhat cooperative. The left head shook its head and upturned its beak rudely at Misty.

Misty pointed at the Doduo's left head. It puffed definitely at her insistence. "You should! Now stop playing around."

The left head screeched at her irritably—it was in too foul a mood to deal with a pesky human girl. To cut off its twins' anger, the right head butted the left head gently. The left head blinked, surprised and resentful. A glaring contest ensued between the two. After a moment the left head seemed to give in under the pressure, or else realized it was making a fool of itself. The left head lowered its beak in an equal bow of shame.

Satisfied, Misty approached the Doduo as it hurriedly sought out an escape route. Anywhere safe from the redheaded human would be a better option. Misty was quicker; she planted her hand on a scruff of fur behind its heads and kept the Doduo still.

"You know, there's nowhere for you to hide in here, Doduo," Misty huffed.

Ash was amazed. Of course this was entirely dangerous—the Doduo could peck her and leave incredible bleeding bruises all over her arms if it were more aggressive and not timid. But Misty was not having its greedy tantrums.

"I can see you feel bad about this. Kind of. But we're going to have a nice, long chat with that irresponsible trainer of yours. You can't interrupt the people and Pokemon working hard in the kitchen," Misty announced. She sighed once the Doduo nodded guiltily. Then, she turned back to Brock with an apologetic look. "Sorry, I'll take care of this for you."

Misty paused for a second. She pointedly threw a sideways motion towards Ash.

"Jeeze, and help Ash with the lights. He's hopeless without me!" Misty called over her shoulder. She kept her grip on the Doduo and directed it out of the counter area to lead her to its trainer. The sounds of Misty scolding the Doduo vanished off into the distance after she finally rounded the nearest corner.

Brock's cooking handiwork was gone, but he really did seem relieved that he could relax for a bit. Ash was glad Misty was gone for the moment herself; his heart had strangely started beating too quickly for him to keep up with.

"So, I'm told you need my help," Brock repeated from his spot kneeling on the floor. He lifted the platter onto the counter before grabbing the lower half of the lights trailing at Ash's feet.

Ash blinked dumbly. The urge for help with unwrapping the lights dissipated. Without Misty there... well, he could do it himself easily. With a calmer twist of his hands, he released his sore skin from the complex network of knots he had brought upon himself in his struggle.

"That's what I thought. Smooth move," Brock observed, grinning knowingly.

"Like you're doing any better. That Doduo got the one-up on you," Ash groused. Okay, Brock probably was doing better than him by light years. But he could still be crabby about it and his feelings about everything in general.

Ash would take the grueling task of unhooking lights any day of the week. If, that was, Misty was there. And he felt silly for involving Brock in the Christmas lights even though he hardly minded.

"Yeah, yeah. I needed a break anyway. I've been back there all morning, and they're mixing the ingredients right now. They'll be fine for a while." Brock wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Ash, why don't you put those stars in that box on the lower branches to get a feel for the weight? That's the last thing you have to put on other than the lights. I'll untangle these." Brock gestured to the bronze, silver, and gold stars inside a nearby box. They were not heavy or large unlike the ornaments they had put up, but the stars would complement the tree nicely.

Well, if nothing else, Brock had a point. His mother would shake her head at him, but Ash needed practice keeping those stars up, because fitting them on the branches was a more difficult chore than postcards made it look like. Ash could tell that these stars would especially be troublemakers—they would slide through the branches if not put on correctly. He had to be creative to get the job done.

"Yeah, sure," Ash agreed. He picked out a gold star and attempted to fit it one of the lower branch bristles, for starters.

Even with this chatting and his working hard for everyone in the Center. . . .

 _But with all this extra time doing this, when am I going to think about what's really important?_ Ash wondered.

Misty's gift. What would he do for her? He was giving joy to the whole Pokemon Center with his time and energy, yes. He had even made Misty pay attention to him with the angel, but that rang hollow if he was not focusing on the real issues.

No, Ash could not delay this any longer.

 _Ugh, Misty, get out of my head!_ But it was futile. The question refused to stop gnawing at the back of his brain like tiny Christmas beads clattering in his skull.

Ash didn't know how to break the ice. He needed Brock's opinion on what he had been carrying ever since yesterday morning. No. Even before that. Because, well, he was his confidante in most matters that Misty could not have a say in. Yes, especially in this matter. It was a guy thing, something only another guy would understand when it came to girls.

Brock was one of Ash's most trusted friends, if not the most trusted. He could ask Brock anything under the sun and not sweat the small stuff.

There was only one way to smash open the ice, then, and he realized this as he watched Pikachu scamper out of nowhere and fumble with a bronze star. It tried to attach the metal star to a lower tree branch with limited success.

He just had to spit it out already.

Ash had to get up the guts to say what he thought. And he had to do it _now_.

Why couldn't his thoughts just be electronically wired to Brock's brain? You know, so he would instantly understand?

 _Would make my life so much easier,_ Ash thought. _She didn't want my cookie. That was kind of a present, right?_

Okay, maybe not. That was completely different. Now, it was time to bite the bullet and be blown backwards from the trauma called embarrassment.

"Brock," Ash said slowly. He swallowed the dry, sandy lump in his throat. "I don't know what to buy Misty for Christmas."

Those dark, terrifying words sent a shocking rippling effect through the dense waters too deep to trudge in his mind. His fears had reached the light of day. But it also felt enlightening.

Ash opened his mouth to continue, but...

And—Brock was not listening.

Brock's answer was noncommittal.

"Buy her whatever you see that's pretty. That's all you gotta do," Brock said. He pried at on the cords, unraveling a particularly nasty snag in the middle.

This was not what Ash wanted to hear at all. Brock had said this. Brock, the guy that tripped over his own two feet buying boxes worth of premium chocolates for hopeful dates on Valentine's Day. Brock, the guy that would probably painstakingly hand-draw love letters with elaborate heart designs. Sure, Valentine's Day was different, but the heartfelt feelings of a gift were what mattered most... And wait, why was he correlating Valentine's Day with Christmas? The concept was similar even for lovers exchanging tokens of affection. But that was not the point!

Ash shook his head to clear out the dancing little hearts swimming around in his head. Luckily for Brock, he had finally wrestled the lights apart. He was now stringing the light bulbs together one by one across the width of the tree.

Ash's stomach did a flip-flop at the sheer carelessness that following Brock's idea would mean. Of all the things to say!

"No. No, I can't just do that," Ash murmured, downtrodden. It was too anticlimatic and uncreative even for his standards. He could not buy any old thing throw up in a shop display.

"Why not?" Genuine puzzlement.

"Well, um—um—Misty's a girl," Ash reminded him as though it was obvious factoid nobody else had ever noticed. Maybe Brock was the dense one.

"Yeah, she is a girl. So?" Brock asked, still dumbfounded. Ash questioning his logic for something like romance seemed to strike him as unfathomable.

Ash blinked. "So?" That one little word rolled around in his head like a bowling ball striking the only standing pin.

The word itself was like a yellow traffic block Ash could not hurdle over. There was a word on the tip of his tongue he wanted to desperately say that would summarize his feelings... but he just couldn't think of it. Everything sounded too eliché, too normal. The words replayed in his ears for a moment, the thoughtless word "so" trying to mar his perception of how great Misty was.

But that just would never happen. Brock couldn't see how special and amazing Misty was in the same way as Ash did. He was an expert on older girls, but not on the one that actually mattered here.

"Well, she's Misty," Ash explained to him matter-of-factly. And he felt like that was a justified answer by itself, honestly.

 _No_ , Ash realized. _I'm crashing and burning. I just can't think of good enough words! This is really, really hard!_

Nope, nothing was helping. In fact, that drove Ash further into a ditch he had dug himself a comfortable home in.

Ash might as well just slam his head against the hard wall. Repeatedly. He placed a silver star on the tree this time to control his shaking hands.

Brock glanced at Ash. His expression was then somber, dark and brooding. Something about this sent alarming goosebumps up and down Ash's arms.

"Brock?"

Ash felt sweatdrops begin to spill down the back of his head. He couldn't make heads or tails of his friend's weird reaction. He wasn't that strange, right?

Brock was a super weird dork anyway. Sometimes. But when he was not weird and irresistibly lovey-dovey, he was—

Brock rushed at Ash in a whirlwind of emotion and clasped him on the shoulders. Ash swore that if Brock's eyelids would have opened at that moment his eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in excitement.

"You mean this is a matter of love!?"

No, scratch that. Always lovey-dovey.

Surprised by the ecstatic thrill in his tone, Ash flailed his arms wildly in the air for support. Brock rocked his shoulders back and forth, intoxicated with joy.

Ash finally found leverage in grabbing Brock's shoulder. He breathed heavily. "W-Well, yeah," he replied a little too bluntly. Shocked by his own words, he mentally backtracked at the speed of a bullet train through the highlands. "No, no—I mean—Misty is just really good friend! A reeeeally good friend!"

A pause settled while Brock observed his confession and gathered his senses.

Ash gulped. And gulped again. Now this was it, this was the moment he had been waiting for. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, and he could feel his skin crawl and itch. The blood in his veins felt like sludge waiting for time to continue in its standstill state. Ash thought he heard a droplet of water skim down a melting icicle outside the nearest window the lobby was so quiet in anticipation.

"Sorry." Brock seemed to realize how roughly his fingers had dug into Ash's shoulder blades. He let go of his friend and stepped back to give him breathing room, rubbing his shoulder where his friend had grabbed him back. Ash stumbled back into the Christmas tree but caught himself before tripping.

"But this means you can't buy anything sitting on a random shelf for her. For real," Brock declared. He smoothed his fingers on the light bulbs in his hands, thinking intensely about their dilemma. "Girls want the best of the best things. Nothing on the clearance rack."

"I could have told you that," Ash snorted.

Brock dropped the lights on the branch and tested its weight with the ornaments already added on. "Misty likes all that sparkly pink and glitz girly stuff. It has to be special. Something Misty wants, but I'm really drawing a blank here."

Now that made the two of them clueless, and this was not a good way to begin searching. Ash had no reliable words to tell Brock that he was barking up the Impossible Christmas Tree.

 _Brock, you can't give up on me this easily! You're better than this!_ Ash pleased. At least, he hoped.

"But that's just the thing!" Ash protested. Catching himself, he cringed. "I'm not a girl even I'm had to dress up like one in the past. I don't know anything about special gifts for girls, either. Don't say anything to that!"

Brock just smirked. The look on his face was clear enough to what he thought.

"Anyway, Misty is a mystery. She's so hardheaded about everything, and you can't get the truth out of her when you need it, and I don't know what she wants the most. Unless—" Ash's mouth turned into a wide O of astonishment. He looked on in horror, clutching his hair, smushing the delicate black strands under his fingertips.

"What?" Brock asked, perplexed.

Ash's throat felt parched. "I knew it. She tells me all the time. I knew it all along."

"Wait, what does she tell you?"

Ash bit his lip, staring at his tennis shoes as if the goal was to burn holes through them. He should have known it was Misty's master plan. "A bike, Brock! Don't you see? She expects me to buy her a fancy bike. A bike for Christmas." Sadly for him, it had boiled down to this humiliation. He should have made good on this long ago... but... "It's ingenious enough to work against me."

"Ash—" Brock started.

"I'm serious!"

"Then buy her a shiny new bike, Ash," Brock suggested innocently. It was increasingly obvious he wanted to see where this would go with Ash's spazzing.

"I can't! It's too much!" Ash complained.

Brock tapped his chin with his forefinger thoughtfully, adding more fuel to the inferno on purpose. "Nah. A nice blue bike with a basket would be cute. Imagine a bike with seashells hanging on the front, and a cute water Pokemon charm dangling on the side." He snapped his fingers. "Oh, and you can attach a Psyduck bike horn if she wants you to hear her coming. It'll get your—"

"No!" Ash cried. He clenched a silver star this time, willing himself to calm down to spite Brock's good-natured amusement. He would not take the easy bait this time. "I can't afford a bike for Christmas. She couldn't even ride it in all the snow and ice out there."

Ash gestured at the snow piled on the Pokemon Center's windowsills. Of course now he chose practicality. And it was a good excuse, one had to admit.

Misty would never get over that dumb, old bike of hers. As payment, it made sense she would request something so glamorous like a bike for Christmas.

The pain of losing his Poke Dollars radiated to his core. He could feel them slip one by one from his soul out into the snowflake-laden streets, guzzled straight down the sewage drains.

"Oh, my. You boys seem to have a great dilemma on your hands."

Nurse Joy's voice called from behind them, sweet and innocent. She stepped out of the door to the backroom where Brock had come from, smiling. Baking powder had settled on the bridge of her nose and her apron; hard at work making the sweets, she was no less a mess. A tray of cupcakes were also snuggly held in her light blue kitchen mitts.

Ash had to pinch Brock's ear as hearts began to inflate in the center of his eyes, threatening to pop out within a moment's notice. "You overheard all that, huh?"

"Well, I fortunately did, yes," Nurse Joy chirped. "Luckily for you, I have advice."

From the corner of his eye, Ash saw Brock's face droop, a little crestfallen. He suspected Brock had wanted to help himself, but he inched closer to Nurse Joy to taste test the current cupcake recipe without mentioning that much.

Nurse Joy nodded, pleased. "If she's special, you have to put your heart into it," she said. She dropped the silver tray next to Brock's on the countertop. "The thought counts, of course, but the gift has to be something that only comes straight from the heart. And don't look anywhere else, so don't you forget it."

Nodding blankly, Brock and Ash numbly stared at her understanding and wisdom. In the next moment of silence Brock lifted the cupcake from the tray to his lips thoughtfully and took a savory bite of blue frosting. His face contorted in bliss.

It helped, but it didn't really help.

 _As much as that makes sense, it isn't anything to go on_ , Ash thought despite it. Maybe her wisdom was just too much for him and had flown over his baseball cap. He wanted to groan and rant and rave about how borderline insane generosity was in this situation. Especially for Misty's case.

"That's it, Ash," Brock said. He waved the light cords in Ash's face. "All you have to do is use your stubbornness and determination. You'll bulldoze any obstacle in your path like you usually do. You'll go far!" Merry with honest light-hearted encouragement, Brock laughed.

Ash glared at him and balled his fists around another the silver star. "Thanks for your sharing your concern, Brock."

"Anytime."

Ash glanced at Nurse Joy, pointedly ignoring Brock from now until at least dinnertime tomorrow rolled around. "What'd you say about getting a present—it has to come from the heart or some mumbo-jumbo like that?" His nose wrinkled. He made a contemplative, sour face. "That's mushy. I can't do that."

Nurse Joy giggled and headed towards the display table to take the empty trays of sweets she had set out earlier. "It might be mushy, but it's true. These things take a little bit of soul-searching to find what's perfect for the girl you like. Only you know what's perfect for her."

"But Christmas Eve in a few days and we just arrived in here," Ash said. "I can't search my soul for gift ideas if I don't know where to even start looking."

His tone was too final for his liking. This just was not him. It seemed so bloody hopeless to scrounge up a present last minute, but he wasn't a loser. Ash did not like losing to anybody. Still, this was an impossible mission only the greatest of masters could finish. Accepting defeat on something like this, just this teensy-weensy-bitty time might just be the one failure he would have to endure. Ever.

The toughest gym battles were not as rough as Misty's gift choices!

But Nurse Joy refused to let him skimp out of this hectic battle so easily. She took Ash's hands in her warm mitted ones and gave them a squeeze.

"Exactly," Nurse Joy encouraged. "Well, you don't really have to search that deep down if it's stopping you from getting the job done. These present ideas don't come right away. You have a few days to find something she'll die for if you start now. Go to the Department Store."

Hope came in the form of stores tightly packed with greasy fast food stalls and sweaty last minute shoppers packed in a maze elbowing each other for electronics and tacky knitted sweaters. It would have to do. This perked Ash up considerably despite the overwhelming prospects.

"There's a Department Store in Celadon City?" Ash asked, keeping his tone light.

"There is," she confirmed. "Maybe it won't be perfect, but like I said, it doesn't have to be the prettiest thing out in the premier shops. Go out and we can handle things here. You have plenty of time if you start right this moment."

Ash tittered on the edge of being impressed and hesitation. After all, he was supposed to be helping out with the chores and doing his part, and his mother had hammered it into his skull that he should contribute like he had been doing. When he could be helpful, he would be. But the way Nurse Joy and Brock were staring, almost accusingly, gave him the courage to at least consult his other right-hand source of strength.

"You think we can do it, Pikachu?" Ash asked, obviously still debating. "Get a good present for Misty that she won't be angry about before Christmas?"

Now that the bronze star was safely secured on the tree branch, PIkachu raised its hand in a mimic of the peace sign. Except— In Pikachu's hurry it hit the bronze star it had just put up. The star bounced off its forehead and landed on the ground. It winced and rubbed the sore area, annoyed. "Pikachu!"

Ash laughed. He picked up and replaced the bronze star for Pikachu, threading it in the tree bristles. Now his mind was made up. "Well then, that's settled." If Pikachu thought they had the fighting chance to round up their resources and make Misty happy, Ash would not hesitate anymore. He stuck out his shoulder for Pikachu to jump on.

"I guess I can try, if you three really believe we can do it in time," Ash said. He glanced out the window; people scurried to and fro down the street, paper shopping bags snuggly secured in their mittens from the local businesses and take-out eateries. All of these Celadon travelers could do it. So Ash could if he really tried, right?

"Of course!" Nurse Joy said.

"We'll hold the forte down here. Good luck, Ash!" Brock waved at the door.

The rising swell of a challenge built in his gut and blossoming through the rest of his body in a flurry of warmth—an antsy, determined mindset to defy the odds and do his best no matter the obstacles. He squared his shoulders next and faced the door, his one true enemy to cross.

"I'll be back by dinner!"

"Pika, pika pi!"

In hot pursuit of a gift, Ash raced at the door. Nurse Joy and Brock watched Pikachu and Ash exit the sliding glass doors and disappear past the mist-shielded windows. Whether the duo would find an electrifying present for Misty was yet to be seen. They had a shot, and that was all Ash would need to succeed. But by the looks on Nurse Joy and Brock's faces, it was obvious they believed a miracle would happen.

Brock continued to wrap the lights around the tree, careful not to disturb the stars Ash and Pikachu had put up.

"He's pretty single-minded when it comes to a challenge, though. I have no doubt he'll try his best," Brock continued. "You should see him when he's all fired up about a gym challenge. There's no stopping him from winning because he uses all his energy over his brains." A pause of thought. "But Pokemon battles are a little different than presents, huh?"

Nurse Joy smiled. She backed up to the kitchen after cleaing up the display table and setting out the cupcakes. "Maybe he needs energy over brains for this task. Sometimes that's good when you want to finish your goal. If you don't have the strength to conquer the challenge, you'll never make the person you want happy."

Brock looked thoughtful. "Nobody wants their potential boyfriend to be lazy."

"Yes. It'll work out for him, I know it. He doesn't understand yet, but he's a good kid ready to gamble on his dreams for the girl he likes," Nurse Joy agreed.

Before turning back to his own stack of chores, Brock noticed Nurse Joy again admiring the begotten but precious angel from earlier. She seemed to have to shake herself out of it, however; a mystery emotion flickered across her face that Brock could not identify. Neither was it sadness nor happiness. Mostly, the look was whimsical. Curious.

Still, Nurse Joy waved to him before returning to help the others in the kitchen prepare more cupcakes. Brock politely waved back, frowning to himself.

Briefly he wondered what Nurse Joy's feelings about the angel were. What she was not saying about it, or might not understand herself. Brock doubted it was anything too important. He would not nose into her business, after all. Of course he always delighted in knowing more about a Nurse Joy, but he would take the slow road and let it play out.

He was careful to maneuver the red and blue balls clipped to the snags in the bristles, or not brush those little paper wishes off that the younger kids had clipped to the tree for some good luck of their own. But, instead of waiting for a simple handout from Santa to grant their dreams, Ash was blazing his own trail. If there was anyone in the entire world ready to shake up the holiday season with misunderstandings and a dash of glee it was his best friend trying to get through the day in one piece.

"He really is." Brock grinned to himself, believing in Ash with his whole heart. 

* * *

**A/N:** On the count of three—one, two, three! Wish Zelda a happy late birthday! I thought this chapter would be long out because It was the second half to the last chapter. But I stepped up my game to give Zelda her present. And this is where things get trickier. This story isn't straightforward Ash gives Misty a present, though. So, I guess you'll have to see why that is! Anyone have guesses for what the gift is? Or what I'm about to do with the plot? I'd love to hear!


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